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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29537172">Broken promises and new beginnings</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilentTeyz/pseuds/SilentTeyz'>SilentTeyz</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Wings of storm and redstone dust [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Video Blogging RPF</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Bad Parent Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Child Neglect, Confrontations, Doomsday Aftermath, Flashbacks, Found Family, Gen, Hallucinations, Hurt/Comfort, Mentioned Alexis | Quackity, Parent Sam | Awesamdude, Post-Finale, Protective Sam|Awesamdude, TommyInnit-centric (Video Blogging RPF), Trauma, Wilbur Soot and TommyInnit are Siblings, Winged Alexis | Quackity, Winged TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 18:49:02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>9,822</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29537172</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilentTeyz/pseuds/SilentTeyz</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>"I cared about you, Phil. I cared about Wil, and Techno, too, “he muttered, “but I am tired. I am tired of my possessions and close ones being used against me. I am tired of being ignored and left alone. I need help but I will not seek it from <i>you.</i>”</p><p>OR</p><p>Tommy confronts Phil and decides to accept Sam's help.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Sam | Awesamdude &amp; TommyInnit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Wings of storm and redstone dust [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2164653</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>48</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>1150</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Completed stories I've read, Found family to make me feel something, no-rpf dsmp collection</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Gift & guilt</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I personally don't like this chapter so I will not blame you if you skip straight to the confrontation in the chapter 2.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>One day, late in the evening, a small chest appeared in Tommy’s room.</p><p>Tommy had just returned after a walk, so was sure it had been brought recently. He didn’t need to wonder who could be the person to leave it. After the sudden visitation incident three days ago Sam has decided to install an alarm at the entrance, similar to the one used in the construction of Pandora’s vault. In case anybody tried to open or destroy the door, the inhabitants of the base would be alarmed immediately on their communicators. Considering the fact Tommy didn’t jump up to the ear-breaking squeal of the alarm – they tested it once; it sounded like a dozens of ghasts screaming directly in your ears – the chest had to be from Sam.</p><p>Tommy didn’t actually see the man yet, but judging by the fact that the chest upon the entrance (Sam had the habit of throwing extra materials in it before sorting them out) was full with tools and pieces of crying obsidian, the man had already returned from the prison. Even though Pandora’s vault was pretty much a self-sustainable establishment, especially with prisoner’s food and water delivery system now ready, Sam still had to check up on the it every once in a while: refill the supplies, check the functioning of the outside and inside security systems, schedule and organize the visitations. He always left a breakfast and a lunch for Tommy, though, often supplemented with a list of chores, for the lack of the better word, with the major difference that he wasn’t obliged to do them unless he wanted to.</p><p>Tommy supposed the chest probably has some new blueprints – he recently asked Sam to show him the work scheme of his super-smelter. When he lifted the lid, however, he found a carefully folded cloth inside, with a piece of paper scribbled in familiar handwriting resting on the top. </p><p>‘I figured your coat is a bit too warm for the current weather,</p><p>And a village nearby has a very good tailor.</p><p>Tell me if it doesn’t fit or you want something else to wear.’</p><p>Tommy curiously read the note at the same time as he lifted the clothing, which turned out to be a long dark-green cloak. He rubbed the fabric between his fingers and found it to be thin, yet soft to the touch. Tommy put the thing on, and the cloak comfortably settled on his shoulders.  They didn’t have a mirror in the base, other than a small one above the bathroom sink, so Tommy went to the huge glass panel separating the main hall and the sugarcane farm. The cloak fitted well and distantly reminded him of his revolutionary uniform with the similar shape. The uniform, however, was tight on his back and waist, whilst the cloak rested free, allowing the wings to twitch slightly under the fabric. It barely weighted anything. Tommy spread one of his wings – the fabric slipped down, touch ghostly elusive – and searched for a loose feather to pull out. Once he found one, he put it against the cloak and compared the touch sense of the both.</p><p> His fingertips caressed the cloak as a careful smile lightened Tommy’s face. Warmth in his chest, an early spring flower, bloomed and shined with life. The paper-thin petals fluttered upon the touch, melting into streams of heat and gentle light. One of them wrapped itself around his heart. Tommy wondered how Sam managed to get his measurements so right until he remembers yesterday, searching for his missing shirt.</p><p>“You really did go for extra steps to make this a surprise, huh?” he asked, facing the reflection as if Sam was here right now. </p><p>Once Tommy’s sight fell on the glass again, he couldn’t bring himself to look away. An odd twisted sensation crawled its way from somewhere in his stomach. The flower of gratitude faded away, nothing but sparkles of the dying fire. Tommy’s smile fell. Where the softness rested before a cruel wrench had raised.  A consuming feeling of wrongness crashed through his body, heavy as an anvil.<br/>
The only thing he realized in the striking shift of emotions is that something has changed in his reflection. Tommy wasn’t wearing the cloak anymore, curling in a heavy trench coat instead. He expected to feel it’s weight press on the sensitive feathers of his wings, but no sensation came from the limbs whatsoever, as if they disappeared completely. The reflection fluttered. Real Tommy was still. Tommy in the reflection shivered and hugged himself. His hair was soaked with water and lips stood out blue on the pale face. Tommy’s heart skipped a beat. </p><p>“Not you again,” he said, teeth grinding.</p><p>Tommy took a step back, and the reflection’s head instantly snapped at him. Blank expression was washed over with fury. Tommy has never known his face even could produce such a deep expression of disgust. </p><p>“You forgot,” the reflection opened its lips. The voice sounds exactly like Tommy, but with a strong tone of accuse, “So I will remind you.”</p><p>
  <i><br/>
Tommy was running. </i>
</p><p>
  <i>He was alone in the empty forest yet he was running from the invisible danger. His body was radiating heat, cold air struggling to cool it down. Tommy didn't to dodge the low branches, and they left short sharp cuts on his arm and face. He didn’t feel it. If Tommy twisted his ankle right now, he wouldn’t notice that under the tide of adrenaline. He ran and ran, ignoring ache in his lungs and in his side. </i>
</p><p>
  <i>Wilbur has lost it. </i>
</p><p>
  <i>Wilbur wants to blow up L’manburg. </i>
</p><p>
  <i>Tommy’s thoughts haunted him, and he didn’t stop moving, as if it was possible to run away from his own mind. He was concentrated too much on making his limbs move to notice when the scattering of trees abruptly shifted into a lake shore. Tommy failed to halt in time and fell into the water, head first. </i>
</p><p>
  <i>He managed to turn mid-air at the last moment. His elbow hit a rocky bottom of shallow waters, clothes and hair instantly soaking wet. Someone’s hand gripped a handle of his shirt and yanked him up. Tommy let out a surprised yelp as he was pulled back to the shore. A face, reddened and sweating, knelled above him. </i>
</p><p>
  <i>“Are you-?” Wilbur breathed in sharply, “You alright?”</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Tommy’s body flashed with rage. He rolled on the ground, and next moment he’s was his legs again, backing away from the man. Wilbur took a step forward, brows furrowed in concern. </i>
</p><p>
  <i>“Don’t – “Tommy hissed, “don’t pretend you care.” </i>
</p><p>
  <i>Wilbur stopped. His eyes widened, brows falling sorrowful. That’s unfair of him to say it, Tommy realized. If he didn’t care, he wouldn’t chase him all the way here from Pogtopia, wouldn’t bother with asking if he’s okay. Wilbur looked so hurt the immediate remorse engulfed Tommy’s anger and made his heart wrench. He drew into himself and looked away.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>“I didn’t mean it.”</i>
</p><p>
  <i>He saw, in the corner of his eye, Wilbur’s head shaking slightly.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>“I understand.”</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Tommy raised his head, “You do?”</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Instead of an answer, however, Wilbur sat down on the gravel, back leaning against a rock. He gestured near himself, suggesting Tommy to join him. He usually preferred to walk while talking to somebody, but the adrenaline burned out, leaving him with the tiredness gradually catching up. Additionally, wet clothes burned his skin with cold. As they sat together like that, in silence, Tommy listened to Wilbur’s wavering breath and wondered if he has changed his mind. The whole idea of blowing up L’manburg – it still didn’t feel quite real. A month ago, Tommy would find such an idea absurd. How could Wilbur, who raised the nation from the delicate seeds, who slept with the dreams of making it independent and strong, who lovingly and proudly called L’manburg his greatest symphony, think of destroying it? </i>
</p><p>
  <i>You answered the question yourself, a mocking voice in his head suggested. A month ago, he still had his L’manburg, and you two weren’t banished to live in misery and shadows of your own failure.</i>
</p><p>
  <i> “Do you seriously want to do that, Wil?” he asked quietly.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Wilbur looked into the distance. Tommy followed his stare and found nothing but still surface of the lake, fluttering under the soft wind. It made him remember the lake around the Camarvan, the one that saved them from the explosions when L’manburg blew up. Tommy wondered if Wilbur’ was seeing that memory, too.  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>Wilbur turned to face Tommy. His vision became clear, and expression shifted into one of familiar determination, the one he wore so often during the war and during the elections, expect this time, there was a strange light, deep in his eyes. Gleaming and flashing lit fuse. </i>
</p><p>
  <i>“I haven’t been not sure about a lot of things recently, but, destroying L’manburg – I want to do it, Tommy. I need to.”</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Shivers ran down Tommy’s spine. </i>
</p><p>
  <i> “I just… I don’t recognize you anymore, Wil. It’s like you have been replaced, “Tommy feels Wilbur stiffen by their touching shoulders, “Whatever is happening in your head right now, it’s just not you.”<br/>
Wilbur fell silent for a few moments, processing the information.</i>
</p><p>
  <i> “I am still Wilbur,” he said, “Maybe I’m not quite the same as before, but the life’s been harsh on both of us lately.”</i>
</p><p>
  <i>“Then talk to me, Wil.”</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Tommy unintentionally raised his voice. He shoved himself from the tree and stood up in front of Wilbur. Wil, who had been avoiding his gaze, had no choice but to raise his head and look Tommy in the face. A pair of determined blue eyes met the hesitant brown ones. Tommy’s chest quivered at the painful realization of how exhausted Wilbur looked. </i>
</p><p>
  <i> “I want to help you,” Tommy said, offering him a hand. “I promise we will get through this. Together."</i>
</p><p>
  <i>The treetop casted a long shadow over Wilbur. While Tommy stood high, submerged in moonlight, the man was almost one with the darkness. They both have been frozen like that for another minute before Wilbur finally shifted from the ground and grabbed his hand. The shadows shed from Wilbur with great reluctance. By the moment Tommy managed to pull Wilbur up, a dense grey cloud engulfed the moon, and the whole world fell dark. </i>
</p><p>
  <i>“I will think of it,” Wilbur said and then immediately jerked his fingers away, “your hand’s cold.”</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Tommy frowned, “Of course I am cold, I fell into a lake.”</i>
</p><p>
  <i>“Because you are an idiot who doesn’t watch where he is going.”</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Tommy gave him an angry look. Wilbur grinned in response. The warning light in his eyes disappeared, and he finally felt the tension between them dissolve. </i>
</p><p>
  <i>“Let’s go back,” Wilbur said.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Tommy nodded and proceeded back into the forest. A chilly wind flew through the trees. His whole body had started feeling numb from the cold. Great. Tommy has some spare clothes in Pogtopia, but they don’t exactly have a shower with hot water to warm up himself upon the arrival. </i>
</p><p>
  <i>Something touched his back. Tommy looked around and met Wilbur’s gaze. His brother was missing the trench coat, the clothing now resting on younger’s shoulders. Warmth started spreading from where the thick fabric touched his skin. Tommy immediately wrapped himself even further, hiding the satisfied grin as Wilbur chuckled, “You owe me one.”</i>
</p><p>
  <i>“You wish,” Tommy grumped. </i>
</p><p>
  <i>Ten minutes upon wearing the coat, Tommy started to understand why Wil had refused to put the thing off. He was already thinking of the plan on how to steal it later, but, when they arrived into the ravine, and Tommy held out the clothing to Wilbur, the man waved him off.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>“I have several. You can keep this one,” he said, a kettle in hand, “change your clothes and come, I will make some hot chocolate.”</i>
</p><p>
  <i>They spent another few hours like that, drinking hot chocolate and joking around. Wilbur grabbed the guitar, Tommy sang purposefully awfully just to piss him off. He was finally put at ease. </i>
</p><p>
  <i>The story isn’t over, not yet and not like that, and he knew it. They still can – and will – get L’manburg back. Wilbur has surrendered early on, and wants Tommy to do it as well. He wanted to remind Wil of the last time they’ve decided to give up. Tommy couldn’t bare the idea of defeat and challenged Dream for a duel. He almost got killed, he gave up both of his discs, but they won. If they could evade surrendering that time, they can do it now, too. </i>
</p><p>
  <i>Tommy will not give up, neither on L’manburg or Wilbur. </i>
</p><p>The world around turned blurry, his senses merging in one ash-grey mess. Tommy blinked rapidly and massaged his eyes with his palms. It didn’t work. Something poked deep into his neck. Air got stuck in the throat and refused to go either way. Tommy raised his hand to undo the clasp of the cloak. The moment it slipped from his wings and shoulders down on the floor, his surroundings came back in place. The base was normal, the reflection was normal, the only thing messed up was Tommy himself. His muscles ached like he had walked miles with no rest, skin cold yet sticky with sweat. The smell of hot chocolate tickled his nostrils with sweet undertones, floating in the air strong and dense, yet not enough to fully suppress the pungent odor of pine oil. Tommy found himself slightly shivering, even though the base was kept warm, and if he listened close enough, he could catch the close hissing of a flame as it greedily munched on firewood.</p><p>Tommy never left the base physically, but all of his senses but vision insisted he was in Pogtopia, during the very start of Wilbur’s insanity. He could close his eyes and let himself slip back into the memory. Tommy could pretend that Wilbur, even though struggling, was still alive, and everything never really went downhill, and it was just him and his brother, a campfire song and warmth of a cup in his hands. He has gotten snapped into his memories every now and then, but never had the flashbacks been so peaceful and warm and accurate all at the same time. The reality seemed so wrong, now, in the same way the cloak has felt on his shoulders.<br/>
Tommy took a step back and tripped over his own feet. </p><p>Back of his head got slammed into the glass panel with a loud thud. Color circles sparkled in front of his eyes as Tommy let out a cry of surprise. The pain startled the last remains of the memory to fade away, sounds and smells and images all dissolving in the air as if they never existed in the first place. His chest, full of warmth and happiness mere minutes ago was now left hollow with nothing but disappointment to refill it. </p><p>Tommy slipped down the wall. The sharply lighted chunks of empty space around him sent sharps spikes onto his skin; too slow to cause any real damage, but thin enough to make every touch uncomfortable. Tommy felt the urge to crawl inside the relative darkness of his room, yet dozens of meters of floor separating him and the door felt like the hardest challenge in his life, so he had stayed where he sat and hugged his knees so he could hide his face from the light better. </p><p>The reality caught up on Tommy, harsh and at once. </p><p>Wilbur is dead. </p><p>For quite a long time already. </p><p>Tommy’s mind found it useful – or fun, he couldn’t ask – to forget this fact every now and then. It was sure to correct itself, though, usually when he enjoyed anything just a bit too much, sometimes in the form of something outside of Tommy’s head, like with the reflection. </p><p>He’d be lying if he said he was over Wilbur’s death. Sadness dissolves in the flow of time. Guilt, however, could last for years, taunting your days and nights along. The hallucinations he saw, particularly the one that decided to show up today, are nothing but a reminder of his unfulfilled duty to his brother. </p><p>
  <i>You didn’t keep your promise.</i>
</p><p>When Wilbur died, not by the hands of his father, but when the real Wilbur still stood on the edge of sanity and Tommy dashed to catch his falling body, his fingers grasped nothing but air and dancing flakes of ash and soot. The guilt of it didn’t come as he saw the bloodied body and dull eyes nor as a shovel pierced the dirt in the place of a future grave. If somebody were to ask Tommy who he was digging the hole for, he would shrug his shoulders, annoyed. Not for his brother, of course! Wil is well and alright, he would say, and then point at a tall figure in a sun-bright yellow sweater and the trademark beanie on top of the fluffy hair. Well, no, he actually wouldn't because Wilbur was so shy these days, he disappeared whenever Tommy wasn’t alone. He didn’t feel the guilt because his brother was here, and they were together. It was only later that Tommy started realizing this Wilbur was not real, and, in fact, it is the very first one of his soon-to-be-normal hallucinations. He came to terms with that, too, as it meant he didn’t leave his brother or his memory behind.  </p><p>
  <i>We will get through this together.</i>
</p><p>The time he actually did break his promise was during the Doomsday. With every piece of the country going up in fire and explosions, a part of Wilbur died too. Dragged away by someone’s steady hand, Tommy was forced to watch the execution of the Camarvan. When they noticed the fire on the L’mantree, it was too far gone. The rain was merciful for leaving an ugly smoking corpse for him to mourn over. Light pouring quickly turned into an aggressive thunderstorm. Tommy wasn’t alone this time, yet he caught the bright dot of a lonely figure sitting on a cliff overlooking the crater. Each drop of water on his skin was followed by quiet hissing. By the time Tommy reached Wilbur, he had already melted, leaving nothing but a dull blue crystal behind.</p><p>
  <i>I will not leave you behind.</i>
</p><p>And here they were again, Tommy betraying his brother once more. He had promised they would be together, yet he almost gave up on the very last thing connecting him with Wilbur – the coat. His consciousness’ reaction on the cloak suddenly made much more sense, and the absence of familiar weight on his shoulders made his back shake painfully. Tommy pulled himself back up, breathing sharply. As soon as he made it to his room, he grabbed the coat and wrapped it around himself, nose buried in the fabric. It smelled like ash, hot chocolate and pane oil, but it also smelled like Wilbur. </p><p>It hurt endlessly to think this is the closest he will get to seeing his brother again. </p><p>***</p><p>The twilight had already fallen upon the world, and Sam probably wouldn’t notice a feather if he hadn’t stepped directly on it, effectively snapping it in half. Now, Sam was not an ornithologist in the slightest, but he had been living in this area for long enough to mesmerize the majority of the birds around, and none of them could physically leave a feather the length of his hand. Tommy’s feathers Sam had occasionally found around the base were close enough, but they were gold-colored, white sometimes, and never the dark shade of grey this one had. </p><p>The feather had to be Phil’s, then.</p><p>What the winged man could possibly forget here, he didn’t know, but the thought of him being anywhere near Tommy made Sam’s fists clench. The last encounter between Tommy and Phil was far from a pleasant one. When Sam saw Tommy literally dropping down, that horrified helplessness on his face, his only instinct was to protect. He had kicked out both intruders and did his best to help Tommy calm down. It seemed to work, but the incident had shaken up the boy noticeably. He didn’t joke as much, stayed in his room most of the time, didn’t engage in conversations. Sam was conflicted between trying to get Tommy to talk and help relieve whatever thing that was bothering him, and staying away, letting him come back to his usual self to avoid any further damage. </p><p>One other thing that had been bothering him was Tommy’s wings. He was very careful with hiding them both inside and outside the base. Letting Sam get a glimpse of the golden feathers right after the panic attack was a sign of a great trust on Tommy’s behalf. Sam valued it a lot, but couldn’t help but notice how unnaturally disproportional the wings had looked. Quackity, a duck, wouldn’t be able to shove the limbs under clothes like that, let alone Phil. A clear pained grimace appeared on Tommy’s face when he had put the brown coat back the next day. That was how Sam decided to search around for a tailor to make a cloak for him to wear instead. </p><p>The clothing had finally been ready, and he was going to gift it to Tommy today, until the feather distracted him just dozens of meters away from the base. Sam frowned and checked his communicator. There were no messages on the alarm setting off, however, he did get two new texts from Tommy. </p><p>
  <i>Tommyinnit: went on a walk</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Tommyinnit: will be back soon</i>
</p><p>They had been sent less than ten minutes ago, so Sam had some time for a quick check. He had left the chest with the gift for Tommy in his room, but left a note just in case Sam would return earlier than him. </p><p>Now, there had been a possibility that the feather was left here from Phil’s first visit, days prior, but Sam wasn’t going to risk it, especially when he didn’t know the man’s intentions. So he went to the basement, grabbed Fran, and minutes later the wolf had been carefully sniffing the damaged feather in his hand. </p><p>There was a chance there wouldn’t be any traces at all since Phil might have just taken off into the air from the very spot Sam had found the feather at, but Fran suddenly let out a short growl. She had  clearly recognized the smell as one of an enemies. Sam smirked with satisfaction but didn’t pet Fran so she wouldn’t get distracted. </p><p>Soon enough, the wolf took off trotting, following an invisible trail. The sky turned a shade darker each following second, and it went completely dark once they got into the forest, under the shadow of the leaves. As soon as Sam put his goggles on, the world around raised with light and color, albeit a bit duller than during the real day. Night vision’s much more practical than carrying around a lamp or a torch. </p><p>Soon, however, Fran had stopped in her tracks just mere meters before a small clearing inside the forest. The wolf kept circling around that one area as she tried to get back on the lost trail. </p><p>“It’s alright, Fran. I think he must have taken off somewhere around here,” Sam scrubbed her neck, “You can sit for now.”</p><p>Sam looked around, but had found no evidences of Phil’s presence. It still wasn’t clear how fresh the trail was and whether they had anything to be worried about. Perhaps he needs to contact Phil and ask him directly. And, depending on the answer, officially prohibit him and Techno from coming into this area again. Honestly, considering all the history between these two and Tommy, he should have done this a while ago. </p><p>For now, though, it is really getting late. Tommy had probably already returned to the base and is waiting for dinner. Sam whistled for Fran, and they went back with a steady pace, his hand on the wolf’s nape.</p><p>At some point, Sam had felt Fran stiffen. She suddenly dropped her head down, the muzzle buried in grass and ground. A long plaintive whine left her throat. </p><p>“Fran, what is it?” Sam asked, concerned.</p><p>Instead of an answer, however, Fran took off running. Sam jerked after her, wondering if she caught Phil’s smell again. They didn’t have to go too far this time. Fran took a sharp turn few feet before the tall hedge surrounding Thickatron, Ponk’s giant tree. She ran past the entrance, directly to the bottom of the structure, voice constantly shifting from panicked barks to quite whines and vice versa.</p><p>Sam stopped before her, snapping his head up.</p><p>He didn’t expect to instantly find the winged silhouette on top of the tree. Phil wasn’t exactly hiding, his blurry figure sitting still, legs hanging down from the edge. Sam was confused, to the very least. Is this a strange invitation for a talk? But why not nave a conversation on the ground and not a good dozens of meters in the air?</p><p>Fran quitted her distressed circling and let out a long howl. Then another one, following right after. </p><p>The silhouette shifted rather sharply. Huh, maybe Phil didn’t even notice them before Fran’s signal. The man folded his wings, figure suddenly very small and thin. It was hard to tell from this height, but Sam assumed Phil’s looking right at him. </p><p>Then his communicator buzzled. </p><p>Sam took the thing out of his pocket and turned it on. </p><p>
  <i>Tommyinnit: don’t freak out big man</i>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Time to move on</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p></p><div class="center">
  <p>The confrontation.</p>
</div>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Sam pulled himself up the last bar of the ladder. Tommy sat with his back turned, his wings nowhere to be seen, hidden once again by the coat. He acknowledged Sam’s presence with a turn of his head. That quick moment was enough for the man to observe the conflicted mixture of nervousness and relief on Tommy’s face. </p><p>“Hey, “Sam greeted, “Mind if I sit here with you?”</p><p>“Sure, big man.”</p><p>He shrugged his shoulders and moved slightly to the side, and Sam couldn’t help the way his heart seemed to freeze in his chest when Tommy leaned a few degrees. He had to force himself to relax. Any sudden movement might startle Tommy, and the least place he wants this to happen is fifty yards above the ground. </p><p>Sam carefully sat next to the boy, hands resting on his lap. He didn’t push the dialogue immediately. Sam long had learned how talking with Tommy was like approaching a timid bird; you need to do it slowly and patiently. So he did just that: looked into the skies, eyes catching shy sparkles of first stars, humming a simple tune to break the uncomfortable atmosphere of silence. The tune was familiar to Tommy; it was one of these Sam often chanted absent-mindedly while working with redstone. Tommy let go off the button he had been fiddling with and raised his eyes. </p><p>“I am fine, everything is fine, don’t worry. Just wanted to let you know in case you thought of – “Tommy paused, “Something else.”</p><p>It went without saying. Tommy knew Sam would understand. He had no doubts Tommy didn’t decide to climb up the tree out of the blue; something had startled him. He wondered if it was something Tommy had seen or heard during his walk. </p><p>“I mean, it was a little unexpected,” he said, “but I am glad to hear you are okay.”</p><p>Sam’s mind went back to the feather in his pocket, and a thought crossed his mind – what if Phil had spoken to Tommy? Sam couldn’t help the way his eyes shifted from the sky to the trees below, expecting to see a certain winged silhouette hiding in the shadows. Tommy followed his gaze and boy’s eyes suddenly widened.</p><p>“You alright?” Sam asked, concerned. </p><p>Tommy laughed nervously, “You know, don’t tell anyone, but I am afraid of heights. Like terrified level of afraid.”</p><p>Sam let out a chuckle, “Why did you go up here then?”</p><p>“Fresh air, I guess. I needed to let go of some thoughts. Wind slapping them out of my head, you know.” Tommy knocked on his forehead, grinning. </p><p>“I can relate to that. Though I usually prefer some physical work for that purpose.”</p><p>Tommy made an exaggeratedly annoyed face, “If you want me to do chores you could’ve told me to the face.”</p><p> Sam smiled, “No, not really. I told you don’t need to do anything.”</p><p>Tommy smiled back. He looked almost normal like that, head tilted to the side, joking lightly with Sam. Then something shifted in his face. Sam couldn’t catch the exact expression before Tommy lowered his head, gaze snapping to his fingers, slightly reddish from the cold. </p><p>“Sam, l don’t think I can accept your gift.” </p><p>Tommy’s voice was full with guilt and sounded more like an apology than a statement. Sam got confused, for a few moments. What gift had Tommy been talking about? But then, he remembered the chest and the cloak inside. Tommy had already been in the base and seen it, then. </p><p>“It’s alright if you don’t like it, “he said reassuringly, “As I said, we can always can get you something else…”</p><p>Sam understood he had said something wrong the moment Tommy’s eyes snapped back to him. </p><p>“No, no, no, it’s not that I don’t like it,” Tommy shook his head frantically. “it’s great, it really is, it’s perfect-”</p><p>Tommy stuttered in the middle of his speech. Sam couldn’t help but get more and more concerned with each word leaving his mouth. With his eyes widening and voice rising, it almost looked like Tommy had been slipping into panic once again.  </p><p>“Tommy, breath,” he said, “everything is alright. It’s me, Sam.”</p><p>Tommy breathed in, almost automatically, but it did help. Sam watched, with a great relief, Tommy’s face relaxing. He muttered, “Yeah. I am fine.” Then Tommy pressed his palms in his eyes, “What had we been talking about again?”</p><p>“I said I am not upset about the gift.”</p><p>“Ah, yes.” a slight pause. Tommy looked Sam in the eyes, suddenly calm and serious. “Look. My coat – it is a very important memory of mine. I know I am well-known on the server for getting attached to objects, but this – “<br/>
Tommy looked away and gripped the coat on his chest, right above where his heart was.  </p><p>“Now, that L’manburg is gone, it is the very last thing connecting me with Wilbur. Giving up on it feels like… Like a betrayal.”</p><p>Puzzle pieces snapped in place. So, it was Sam’s gift that shuddered Tommy so much. He didn’t do it on purpose, of course, but it still made his chest ache with regret.

“I understand. It’s really my bad. Don’t worry about it, okay?”</p><p>Sam put a hand on Tommy’s shoulder and gripped it reassuringly. Boy’s face shifted into surprise, like he had expected Sam to be upset or mad about it, but the expression quickly was washed over by relief when he caught the man’s reassuring smile. Tommy let out a loud sign.</p><p>“It’s just so stupid, “he confessed with an annoyed tone, hands clenching slightly. “It had been more than half a year at this point, and I am still not over it.”</p><p> “It’s not that easy to get over something so serious, Tommy. Your reaction is completely normal. You couldn’t catch a break this whole time, “he paused, “But now, all the time you need, you can take, and you can talk to me about it too.”</p><p>Tommy’s head dropped once again. Something out of Sam’s words had made him slip into his thoughts. The tension returned with a doubled force. Sam stiffened in place, not quite sure what he could do right now. As he was about to ask Tommy if he was okay, the boy made eye contact. His eyes were wide and Sam was sure he had seen the tears sparkling inside. </p><p>“I don’t think I am ready for that yet,” he whispered. </p><p>“Its fine. I just want you to know, “Sam put a hand on Tommy’s shoulder and said with all seriousness,” “Whatever help you need, ask me. I will never deny you.”</p><p>And Tommy smiled. It was an unsure smile, yet genuinely grateful, and it made Sam’s heart warm up. He allowed himself to shift a bit closer to the boy and rub his back, careful not to touch the wings visibly twitching under the coat. Tommy leaned into the touch, and the tension between them was gone completely.</p><p>***</p><p>It started the day Techno and Phil had seen Tommy for the first time since the Doomsday. Phil had seen boy’s destroyed house a few hours ago, and thought that the boy had seen it coming; from all the times he had scammed and angered people it was only a matter of time someone would get a revenge. He did wonder, however, where the boy had been living at the moment, but the least of all he expected it to be Sam’s base, so it was only logical for him to assume Tommy was trying to steal from the builder.</p><p>Oh how wrong had he been.</p><p>Phil previously didn’t talk with Sam at all except for a few brief interactions. The only reason he and Techno had gone to him was because he was against the Egg (according to Puffy’s words, at least) and, after Bad’s attempt to kill Ranboo days prior, Phil suggested to make an alliance with Sam in advance. Turns out he was the one taking care of the boy now. Tommy looked alright to Phil, with the battle wounds and burns healed, skin less pale and eyes more of their normal blue color, so he couldn’t care less. But then Sam appeared, and the boy’s face shifted from an aggressive frown into a look of utter relief and joy, and his eyes sparkled with this admiration Phil had only seen him look at Wilbur with. Not even Phil himself or Techno ever were awarded with such an open awe. A strange weight pressed on his chest as he watched Tommy hug Sam tightly, whispering something they couldn’t hear from afar.</p><p>That, however, wasn’t what bothered Phil the most, but the movement of something behind Tommy’s shoulders. What he had assumed to be a cloak at first was actually a pair of <i>wings</i>. </p><p>Phil knew he would grow them eventually, ever since Tommy was a small child. But that wasn’t supposed to happen until he was eighteen years old, so it was at least two years early for them. And yet, Tommy stood, gold and cream and brown feathers puffed up. Even though the angle couldn’t give a proper look on the wings, they seemed quite small, so he had assumed Tommy grew them somewhat recently, a month at the very most. Phil couldn’t help the disappointment aching in his chest. Sure, he didn’t forgive Tommy for siding with L’manburg and betraying Techno, but two years would be a long time, just enough for the boy to realize his mistakes and apologize. If not, Phil was convinced Tommy would come running the day the wings would start breaking through his back, as Phil was the one he always run to when confused or scared. No matter how mad he was at Tommy, the first few weeks of wings growing was terribly painful, and knowing that Tommy had went through them alone, with no other avian to help him through, made Phil clench his fists with devastation. </p><p>Everything went only worse from this point. Techno had said something that Phil didn’t quite catch for being occupied with thoughts, and then Tommy started freaking out and slipped into a <i>panic attack</i>. Since when did Tommy started getting panic attacks? What had caused this one? Why did he look so scared? </p><p>He had reached out for Tommy, but Sam stood in his way. </p><p>And he backed off, partially because of Techno’s hand on his shoulder, the grip a silent suggestion to leave. </p><p>Phil couldn’t forget that image since then. The moment he closed his eyes, wings folding comfortably for sleep, Tommy’s terrified expression flashed bright in his mind. In the morning, he had tried asking Techno about the boy’s time in his cabin, the part when Phil himself had been under the house arrest. His friend, however, couldn’t tell him that much. Tommy did have several panic attacks that he had to pull him out of, but he wasn’t sure on what had caused them. Phil didn’t pressure further as Techno had been becoming increasingly uncomfortable with the questions. </p><p>Phil tried to remember everything connected with Tommy during the week between his escape from the house arrest and the Green Festival. He remembered how the boy run to greet him in front of the cabin despite the heavy snow, wrapped in one of Techno’s winter capes. All three of them drank tea together, Tommy talking non-stop about sneaking up a whole army of dogs into a secret bunker under L’manburg. Phil listened to him with a smile, interrupting the energetic flow of the words with questions every now and then. And if Tommy’s eyes had a heavy grey shade; if his laughter was so loud it seemed like it was trying to hide the fear cracking through his voice; if a few new scars appeared on his face and his hands and basically every piece of visible skin, he didn’t pay them that much attention. </p><p>He regretted it, now. Phil couldn’t help but compare the way Tommy had been months ago, before the exile, to his current state. The changes had been so obvious it hurt to think he didn’t notice any sooner. One part of Phil told him that he shouldn’t feel sympathetic towards a traitor, but the other constantly whispered: Wilbur had been a traitor, too… And it made him remember how different Wil had become towards the end. How Phil, standing in that room, was looking into the mad swirling eyes of a complete stranger rather than his beloved older son. And even though he didn’t see any traces of insanity in Tommy’s behavior, the exhaustion and fear had been the same he remembered in Wilbur. </p><p>Phil flapped his wings twice, air whistling between the long dark feathers, then glided gracefully above the spruce treetops. He was looking for a clearing to land on. He could try and find a stronger tree branch for the same purpose, but then the landing would be louder and he was trying to keep himself unspotted for as long as possible. A water poodle splashed under his foot when he landed on the river shore. Phil shook the droplets from his wings and folded them before fading one with trees’ shadows. </p><p>Dry leaves and sticks didn’t crunch under his feet, the wind faded away and leaves went stiff, birds’ songs died out as if the forest itself couldn’t dare to interrupt the silent peace of Wilbur’s grave, the only place Tommy could be heading to in this empty spruce forest.</p><p>Phil quietly approached the gravestone and sat on the ground in front of it, hands resting on his lap. Familiar sadness pressed on his chest and shoulders at the sight of the gravestone with Wilbur’s name he had carved with his own hands all those months ago.  </p><p>Seconds later, he had heard bushes shuffling. Two pair of eyes snapped at Phil’s back, one of a boy, and the other of an animal. Phil stiffened against his will when he heard the low growling of Sam’s wolf. It stopped almost instantly. </p><p>“It’s okay, Fran,” he heard Tommy saying, “go home, I will be alright.”</p><p>Tommy didn’t sound so sure, however. Phil wasn’t the only one to notice that. Fran hesitantly shifted from one foot to another. </p><p>“I said, go,” Tommy’s voice hardened. </p><p>There was a whine and more shuffling, and Fran was gone. It was only Phil and Tommy on the clearing around Wilbur’s grave. </p><p>The boy stood silent for almost a minute before hesitantly sitting down next to him. Phil watched Tommy’s hands clench on his knees, nails sinking into skin through the fabric of tightly buttoned coat. His face didn’t betray any emotions, or maybe he didn’t feel any, because the moment the boy’s eyes met the gravestone, he seemed unable to look away.</p><p> “Do you come here often?” Tommy asked without glancing at Phil.</p><p>“Every week, ever since the November 16th."</p><p>Tommy snorted with a sad smile, “Guess I am not a very good brother then. I only visited this place once before.”</p><p>Phil eyed him from the corner of his eyes. He suspected Tommy had referred to the day they buried Wilbur. The boy helped to dig the grave but left before the body was put inside, only Phil and Fundy left to mourn the dead man afterwards. </p><p>“Was there anything stopping you from coming?” he asked carefully. </p><p>“It’s- “Tommy paused, “Let’s just say it is easier to imagine someone is still alive if you haven’t seen the gravestone.”</p><p>The pain in Tommy’s voice made Phil’s own heart wrench. “You miss him,” he stated the obvious truth. </p><p>In the corners of Phil’s eyes, Tommy shifted on the ground, pulling knees to his chest, “I would give everything in this world to bring Wilbur back.”</p><p>“And so would I.” Phil’s voice was sympathetic and regretful.” I never should have killed him.”</p><p>To Phil’s surprise, however, Tommy shook his head.</p><p>“He asked you to, I don’t really blame you for that. If it someone’s fault, it’s probably mine.”</p><p>Phil frowned, “I don’t see how are you related to Wilbur going insane.”</p><p>“I mean… I was the only one around Wilbur at that time. I didn’t prevent him from losing his mind, “he took a deep breath and curled further into himself, “I tried, but it just didn’t work.”</p><p><i>Tommy blames himself for Wilbur’s death?</i> That was something Phil didn’t know about. The overwhelming guilt in the boy’s voice only raised his concern. How long had been this going on? </p><p>“It’s not your fault,” he said, “You did the best you could do.”</p><p>“Yet it wasn’t enough.”</p><p>Tommy hid his face between his knees. When Phil moved a bit closer and put a hand on his shoulder, the boy flinched but didn’t jerk away. </p><p> “Guilt isn’t going to bring a dead man back, Tommy, “he tried to make his voice as reassuring as possible,” The only thing we can do now is prevent the same things from happening to anyone else.”</p><p>“I guess,” Tommy quietly answered. </p><p>The tone was unsure, but he seemed to calm down after man’s words. He raised his eyes and, for a moment, it was like it was supposed to be: Tommy leaning on Phil for support and reassurance. It still isn’t late to turn things back. </p><p>“You know, Tommy,” he started carefully, “I am trying to understand why did you decide to side with L’manburg. I thought you would know better after everything it had done to you and your friends. To Wilbur, too.”</p><p>Tommy raised his head and looked at the gravestone as if out of instinct, then slowly turned to face Phil. His eyes narrowed, “L’manburg wasn’t responsible for what happened to Wilbur.”</p><p>“Wasn’t it?” Phil responded. “Wil couldn’t live with the fact he lost his power.”</p><p>“Wil couldn’t live with being thrown away from his own nation and home. He got ripped off of his life purpose.”</p><p>Tommy’s tone started shaking. He shook away Phil’s hand and backed away, expression increasingly wary. Phil realized he pushed too far and tried to regain previous calmness in his voice and face. </p><p>“I know Wilbur intended to create L’manburg with a good idea in mind. From the stories I heard, once it really had been a place the anthem described it to be,” he said, “but ever since I joined the server, government had been doing nothing but wronging people. And I am not talking about myself, or Techno, I am talking about you, Tommy. L’manburg stood in the way between you and your closest ones many, many times.”</p><p>“No, no, no- “Tommy shook his head, “Tubbo did everything he could to protect L’manburg, and I don’t blame him for that.”</p><p>“I am not talking only about Tubbo,” Phil said gently. “I mean Wilbur as well.”</p><p>Tommy snapped at him, “What do you mean?”</p><p>“Wilbur betrayed you for the idea of destroying L’manburg.”</p><p>“Wilbur didn’t <i>betray</i> me, “Tommy snarled, standing up straight, “He was honest with me since the very beginning. Even on the final day, he agreed not to blow up L’manburg if everything went according to the plan. If Techno wouldn’t interfere with his stupid speech about tyrants and heroes and start a battle, Wilbur would never press the button.”</p><p>“I had found him in that room long before Techno had gone against you, “Phil pulled himself on his legs too, shaking his head, “Tommy, no matter what would happen on that day, no matter his promises, Wilbur was going to destroy L’manburg.”</p><p>Tommy <i>crumbled</i> at that. </p><p>The painful realization had broken something inside him and the impact was so obvious from the way he started shaking that Phil couldn’t help but approach the boy. Tommy jerked away from him, eyes wide and angry.</p><p>“If it wasn’t for L’manburg, I wouldn’t have anything in the first place!” he shouted, “L’manburg was my everything. It was my home. Why would you help Dream to destroy it?”</p><p>Phil straightened, “Dream was just a business partner. We had a common goal.”</p><p>“He destroyed everything of mine!”</p><p>“Buildings and things don’t matter, Tommy! Members of L’manburg, including you, you all can restart again, this time not repeating your previous mistakes-”</p><p>Phil stuttered, because Tommy suddenly looked like he got punched in the face. He backed away a few steps, seemingly struggling to keep himself standing. His shoulders spiked up to his ears and he hugged himself and his eyes flashed with animalistic horror. </p><p>“…Tommy?” </p><p>Whatever happened to the boy at the moment, he got snapped out of it the second Phil spoke. </p><p>And he was <i>flooded</i> by the hatred radiating from Tommy. </p><p>The blue eyes flared with the intensity of thousands forest fires. He found himself stumbling backwards as the boy took a few steps towards him, hands gesturing wildly in the air, a certain twitching in his body that made every movement seem inhuman. At this moment, this sixteen-year-old boy had been more terrifying than all the mobs Phil had seen in his life combined.</p><p>“You call this a restart, Phil. Tell me what happens when you take something one owns by force, and you destroy it. Do you always expect them to stand back?”</p><p>Phil was too stunned to give an answer, but Tommy didn’t need one. </p><p>“There are only limited times one can do this, “he continued, “One day, their power runs out. And they stop resisting,” he clenched his fists, “They accept the fact, no matter what they do, everything they love and own will be destroyed. That is what called hopelessness.”</p><p>Tommy’s voice was filled with devastation. He turned his head slightly, eyes snapping to Wilbur’s grave. The anger on his face got mixed with grief, “When Wilbur lost all his hope he went insane.”</p><p>And then, his voice dropped completely, and he looked Phil right into the eyes. The blue died out in favor of heavy, exhausted grey.</p><p>“You don’t know how close I was to losing mine,” Tommy whispered. </p><p>The image of the relief and joy on Wilbur’s face as the sword went through his chest flooded Phil’s vision. Suddenly, Wil’s brown eyes were replaced with dull grey of the younger boy.</p><p>Phil was confused more than anything, but Tommy’s last sentence hit him with horrifying realization. </p><p>“What do you mean?” he asked, stunned. </p><p>There was no answer to his question. The anger faded away, and a tired, shaking boy was left behind. Tommy gave Phil a last painful glance and turned around to leave.</p><p>“You can’t just drop this on me and escape like that!” Phil dashed to grab Tommy’s hand. </p><p>His face exploded with pain. </p><p>Phil backed away with surprise, hand flying up to his chin. </p><p>“Get away from him,” a familiar voice growled.</p><p>Sam stood between Phil and Tommy. His fist was still raised from the punch. A white and grey wolf circled around the boy, who was as shocked as Phil was, “Sam?” </p><p>“Are you alright, Tommy?” Sam asked gently. </p><p>Tommy nodded, not quite realizing Sam can’t see him with his back turned. He curled into himself, no traces of anger burst a few minutes ago. Tommy looked completely dried out, as if all the energy left him out of a sudden. </p><p>“Tommy… “Phil said. </p><p>When he met Phil’s pleading gaze, however, Tommy’s expression shifted into disappointment. </p><p>“I cared about you, Phil. I cared about Wil, and Techno, too, “he muttered, “but I am tired. I am tired of my possessions and close ones being used against me. I am tired of being ignored and left alone. I need help but I will not seek it from <i>you.</i>”</p><p>And that was the last words Tommy had said to Phil before leaving. Sam and Fran followed the boy closely, both of them silent threats in case the winged man would try and follow them again. Phil, however, remained still. And the only thought pounding in his head was the realization that he had just lost another son.  </p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>***</p>
</div><p>Later that evening, Tommy had been standing in front of a hole in a small dirt hill, a lamp in hand.</p><p>“You sure you want to go there?” Sam asked.</p><p>Tommy gave him a confident nod, even though there was a nervous stuttering in his breath. For him, the most satisfying thing with anything was closure. Putting a proper lid on everything, flipping a page of a book. Going <i>"Right, this is done. This is done, and it's all ended."</i> The conversation with Phil earlier was painful to remember, yet now Tommy realized that it was necessary to get over with. He couldn’t – and didn’t want to – avoid the problem forever. Tommy also realized there had been two other pages in his book he needed to finish as soon as possible. That was what how he and Sam ended up in front of the Pogtopia’s forest entrance. </p><p>Tommy was first to move. The lamp’s light picked out silhouettes of a bed and a chest near the entrance.  Both of them were heavily dusted, and small animals shuffled under the furniture, startled by humans’ presence. Tommy went further towards the stone stairs. </p><p>“Watch your step. We had several incidents of people falling,” Tommy said. </p><p>“I am more afraid that I might get stuck in here, “Sam answered, squeezing his shoulders to fit into the narrow hallway.</p><p>The ravine, quite predictably, looked abandoned. Tommy never visited this place ever since the war ended and he was pretty sure that was true for all the former Pogtopia members and allies. With nobody to lit the light, it was submerged into an utter darkness. Tommy remembered, however, the position of the torches, and lit them one by one as he passed by. Soon enough, light flickered on the stone walls and floors and paths. Several bats unhooked themselves from the cracks in the ceiling and quietly flew away into the furthest corners of the ravine. </p><p>Tommy opened several chests just out of curiosity. The contents varied from useless trash to more valuable items: few iron ingots, half-broken diamond helmet, half a stack of arrows. Some of the things Tommy even remembered putting in. An old kettle still rested above the long gone campfire, a couple of cups, one broken in half and laying on the floor, probably dropped by rats or whatever animals inhibited Pogtopia these days.</p><p>Thinking back of it now, Tommy couldn’t understand why he was so afraid of coming into the ravine.</p><p>All the little cracks and every roughly shaped stair was familiar, as were the abandoned items all around the place, but as much as they brought up old memories, not even distinct signals of fear were coming through the dome of sadness Tommy felt himself being under. Even the pit he had afraid would him shove him into panic triggered nothing but a twitch of his shoulders.</p><p>Is this what being over something feels like?</p><p>Or was is it because Tommy wasn’t alone anymore? </p><p>He watched Sam from the corner of his eyes. The man was leaning against a stone doorway, his figure completely blocking out the room. </p><p> “A potato farm, isn’t it? It’s quite well done, though the farm in my base is more effective,” Sam said, commenting on the redstone. </p><p>“Don’t even get me started on this. Potatoes were the only thing we ate in months, “Tommy frowned in disgust, “I hate them so much that I won’t ever eat one till my very death.”</p><p>“Ah, so that where your hatred for potatoes came from.”</p><p>Sam laughed, and the sound echoed from the walls, filling the ravine with noise. He moved to the next doorway. </p><p>“What is it?” Tommy heard Sam asking with curiosity. “There are… two pistons attached to an observer and a redstone block?”</p><p>Tommy’s face reddened. </p><p>“No, no, no, don’t come near that place,” he said, pulling Sam away by his elbow, “terrible, terrible things had happened in that room.”</p><p>Sam looked confused, and Tommy was just ashamed, remembering how he got stuck under the pistons that one time. It was embarrassing and he never ever wanted another living soul to find out. Who knows, maybe Sam would be able to figure out what happened just by looking at the clumsily constructed mechanism. </p><p>“We will need to burn that later.”</p><p>“Why burn? We can use it to build something…”</p><p>“No, we burn it.”</p><p>Sam didn’t argue back though there had been sparks in his eyes as if he held back laughter. Tommy just kept pushing him away.</p><p> He didn’t realize they came near Wilbur’s room until he lightly hit his elbow on the spruce door. </p><p>Tommy didn’t feel the pain from the hit. Any sort of emotions left his body, and he felt almost lifeless. His quickly beating heart proved him otherwise. Tommy wasn’t sure how long had been staring blankly at the door before a warm hand touched his skin.</p><p>“You want me to come in with you?” Sam asked, voice barely above a whisper. </p><p>Tommy nodded. He was too occupied with his own nervousness and fear to feel ashamed of the way he clung to Sam’s arm. The door opened with a loud crack. Tommy’s heart dropped to his stomach. </p><p>The room was small.  A bed, a chair and a roughly constructed oak table taking up the most of the space. A bright-red stick of TNT laying across a few yellowish pieces of paper made Tommy flinch slightly. The papers were empty of anything but a few ink stains he recognized as musical notes. Tommy had been in Wilbur’s room the day before the final battle unleashed, and he didn’t remember anything being on the table. It made him wonder if Wilbur had been trying to write a song before his death. </p><p>There had been a third object on the table, a small mirror with the face all dusty and unclear. Tommy reached for it and rubbed it absent-mindedly. When he pulled his hand away, however, a second figure appeared in the reflection. </p><p>Tommy didn’t dare to breath, yet alone move as the man in a bloodied trench coat smirked at him, brown eyes tired and bagged yet clear, not a hint of swirling fire of insanity in them. His skin wasn’t greyish nor transparent, albeit a bit pale, like of someone who spent months underground, barely catching a glimpse of the sunlight. The wound in his chest was present, though, and Tommy avoided looking too deep into the hole, afraid he’ll start imagining a beating heart inside. </p><p>This wasn’t real. </p><p>Tommy knew that. </p><p>But when Wilbur smiled at him sorrowfully, Tommy’s shoulder began to falter. The boy didn’t catch the moment tears started to form in his eyes, blurring his vision even further. Tommy took a deep breath and tried to wave the feeling away. He was hallucinating, sure, but he couldn’t let himself ruin the moment with the stupid sadness. Chilly cold near his exposed neck made him snap his head up. Wilbur’s fingers rested on his shoulder in the reflection. Tommy could almost feel the gentle touch in reality, too.  </p><p>They stood like this, </p><p>A president and his vice-president,</p><p>A mentor and his student,</p><p>Two brothers, one living and real, and the other a vision formed from his memories,</p><p>Until the elder pulled his hand away and smiled. Tommy smiled back. Wilbur gave him a mocking salute as he faded away into the air. Before he completely disappeared, however, Tommy noticed the trench coat shifting into a bright yellow sweater. </p><p>Tommy stared into the mirror for a few more seconds before putting it back on the table. </p><p>He wiped the tear tracks on his face and tried to catch his breath. </p><p>The past was persistent in following him around. Tommy wasn’t made of steel, the exile made him face his own limit. The longer he kept going, the more obvious the weight attached to him had become. Shove Tommy into a lake – another conflict or a war – and he will sink like the heaviest of stones. He had already been sinking, he just didn’t have any strength to swim up. But now, a hand was offered, one that promised him the long desired peace and freedom. One would think Tommy should have stopped trusting people with the amount of times he got stabbed in the back, yet there was something this time, there was something with Sam, that made his fear go still and silent. </p><p>So when he put off the trench coat and Sam tried to look away from his wings, Tommy grabbed man’s hand. </p><p>“It’s fine,” he said confidently, “I trust you.”</p><p>So Sam watched Tommy as the boy clenched the coat for the very last time before carefully hanging it on a hook by the door. </p><p>The dirty gold and cream and brown wings flared up as they were finally freed from the pressure. Tommy figured out they looked as bad as they felt. With little to no movement, feathers bend and creased, with layers of dirt and dust staining them, they might as well be considered a dead weight. </p><p>And yet, “There are beautiful.”</p><p>And when Sam said that, Tommy was willing to believe. </p><p>He turned around, and there was a silent question in Sam’s eyes as he spread his arms wide. Tommy smiled and jumped into the hug, embraced with the warmth and comfort and calmness all following from the contact. </p><p>“Let’s go home.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>
  <i>Here get some Awesamdad comfort to heal your trauma from Tommy's last stream.</i>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>I hoped I did all the characters justice and the confrontation fulfilled your expectations. </p><p>If you liked the chapter, please leave a kuddo and a comment!</p><p>You may have noticed I love parallelism and symbolism and hiding small details so you may want to read carefully to catch them all.</p><p>Also, if you want to help me to write faster and more, you can participate in this SURVEY of mine.<br/>It only takes about 2-3 minutes to complete and would mean a world to me if you did.<br/>It is about suicide so if you are sensitive to the topic, don't press the link, it's fine.<br/>(You may also send it to your friends or acquaintances)<br/>https://docs.google.com/forms/d/e/1FAIpQLSfldzcQ9oOrx3GvxG1ViOXh11bqJNnKfOBN9Zyvci_eb3495A/viewform?usp=sf_link</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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